Indivisible
by VaveAma92
Summary: The CSI NY team meets one of the most mystical and strangest characters to ever walk on US soil. Her secret revolves around an American tragedy and all she wants is Mac and the help of his team. Warning: Patriotism is totally a theme in this story. CH. 5, 6, 7, & 8! Sorry it has taken me four freakin years. Oh and new title! Ch. 9 up! 6/25/12
1. Chapter 1

nAll right. Let's try this again. I tried out this character in LV, but I just couldn't match her with the storyline that I wanted. So I sort of copied and pasted her here. I hope you find my story interesting. She has been 'haunting' me for quite some time now.

I do not own CSI: NY. That belongs to all the big guys down at CBS.

I am totally using this opportunity to get Stella and Mac together. Ha! For my buds at CSI Files and . I love you guys!

She stared at the body before her, blocking out the screams and gasps and utter cries that were behind her. How come in events like these she was the only one with self-control? This was not a self-doubt question. Just one that she always had to answer. She was way use to this situation.

She had blocked off the backstage area with chairs, hoping to keep unwanted shoes and DNA to a limit. None of these girls could handle this. They burst into tears when they watch their best friends perform on the weekend of their last performance- when it wasn't even their last performance. But then again, a dead body was a not-every-day scenario. At least for them.

"Endza."

She blinked, before turning around to respond to her name. One of the girls was trying to get her attention. Of course, it was the girl who thought she was running the show.

"Are you sure that you're allowed to be back there?"

Endza rolled her eyes internally.

"Are you sure you're allowed to be watching?" She responded in her serious but soft tone. Everyone kept silent and scattered.

Except for her two best friends, who were standing on either side of the door, arms crossed. This wasn't an everyday thing to them, but at least they had the maturity to not start screaming their heads off like someone was coming at them with an axe. Besides this guy wasn't even killed with an axe. But there was blood coming from his ears. People kill so simply in America.

Mac Taylor ducked under the familiar yellow tape. Murder at a theatre. What would it be this time? Internal romance? Jealousy over a role? Accidental stupidity with the weights and ropes? Who knows? He could see the doors that lead to the body, as he saw Flack wave him down. Walking down the corridor was definitely a tad different for him. Girls in costumes were lined up against the brick walls hugging and clinging to each other as if aliens were now entering the building. Some were hysteric. Others were simply scared. But one thing was definitely for sure- drama. But the other odd part was that every adult that may have been participating was also in the hallway. There was a whole 20 feet from the last adult to where Flack was standing. How come no one was crowding him? Flack didn't even have to have another guard with him. Odd.

He came closer with his colleague.

"Dan Hampston. 34. Single. Worked with the lighting company that was hired to do the show. One of the girls found him when she came back here to look for scotch tape."

Mac raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently, they use tape to make sure their ribbons don't fall out, I dunno." He shrugged.

"Why wasn't anyone else back here?" Mac asked, walking past Flack.

"Well, the girl said that they had just finished warm up and were told to go and put costumes on. So, according to her, all the dancers were gone. As for the rest of the crew…. Well, I haven't gotten that far."

"Flack." The detective faced Mac. "Why are chairs blocking the body?"

"Oh, you'll have to talk to her about that."

Flack pointed across the hall to an open door that lead to one of the dressing rooms.

"Hey. Your CSI is here." He said.

A teenage girl stepped out of the room. Long brown hair, round face, brown eyes… and five foot seven. She was really pretty. Beautiful. She had a foreign look to her. The expression on her face was soft but serious, calm yet alert. She knew something.

"Did you find the body?" asked Mac.

"No." she said shaking her head. "She did."

The girl held out her hand, signaling for someone to step out of the dressing room. Another teen, several inches shorter, stepped out. She had obviously been crying and gave Mac and Flack her best puppy dog eyes.

"What's your name?" Mac asked the shorter girl.

"M… Melissa." she responded, shakily. The older teen patted her on the shoulder, with a hint of annoyance.

"You are going to go with this officer right here okay." He said.

Melissa nodded and began to cry again. The other teen sighed.

"So?" Mac asked. "What's your name?"

The teen regained her tender composure and peered at the CSI next to her.

"Endza. Endza Vavare`."

MUAHAHAHA! That is my intro. Now let's see if I can actually continue!


	2. Chapter 2

_Endza, What kind of name was that?_

"What kind of name is that?" asked Mac, very perplexed. Endza raised an eyebrow.

"Simply the one my parents gave me." She said, shrugging.

"Aha." Said Mac. He looked back down the corridor.

"And your name detective?"

"Oh. It's Mac Taylor. Detective Mac Taylor." Endza nodded. "Well, Miss Endza. I have been to countless numbers of crime scenes. But there have been very few where I can actually breathe without inhaling another human."

"You're Welcome." Said Endza. She gave a small grin and walked back into her dressing room. Mac and Flack looked at each other, before following her in.

"How come none of them are crowding around my crime scene?" Mac asked, once again perplexed. This girl was very different.

"I put the fear of the law into them. If they were going to be hysterical and out of control, they were going to behave like that away from the dead body." She paused. "I have an ATF friend. I know how these things work."

"Endza, how long have you been dancing?" he asked.

"As long as I can remember. I've have a few short pauses in between years, but nothing to really stop me from the hobby." She said kindly.

"You seem to be the only one that doesn't have her hair up. Why is that?" Mac asked.

"I'm on stage much later. With the long speech the director makes and with how long the first act is, I need something to keep me from becoming bored." There was this accent that was in her voice. Mac could not pin point it to save his life. It wasn't strong, and was definitely disguised. But before he could ask….

"Mac?" came the familiar female voice.

He turned to the door to see his partner, Stella Bonesera standing there. Blooming curls, angular face, quite tall. Kit and all, the Greek woman, was ready to go to work.

"Endza, this is my partner, Detective Stella Bonesera."

"How do you do?" Stella asked, putting on her gloves. Endza nodded with a kind smile.

"So, Mac. Where do you want me to start?" She asked.

"You can interview all of those crying prom queens out there!" Flack exclaimed, walking in. Endza stifled a laugh.

"Sorry Flack. The gloves beat you to it." Stella said, smiling tauntingly. Flack pouted.

"Ya know. When you're in high school Chemistry, the teachers never tell you that if you don't pass this, you'll be stuck interviewing crying teenage girls with no life one day. And what makes it worse is that none of them are old enough to vote yet."

Mac and Stella gave him their 'look.' He rolled his eyes and stormed off.

"Okay, if ya'll don't pull this together, I'm going to have all of you locked up for disturbing the peace and ruining my dinner date!" yelled Flack form down the hall. You could hear sudden gasps and whimpers from down the hallway.

"I like him." Said Endza, with her long brown hair draping over her shoulders. She wasn't as thin and tiny as many of the other girls. She was tall and lean. But as a dancer that was expected. It wasn't hard to see the muscles in her legs and core. That was what the tights and leotards were for anyway.

"Not the kind that blends in, huh?" asked Stella, in an understanding tone. Endza grinned then looked at the ground.

"Trust me. I prefer not to." Endza said. Stella nodded to that. "Ignorance and total drama has never struck me as an appealing quality." She paused. "I'm sorry if that sounded conceited." She said with a guilty whisper. Mac and Stella were caught off guard by the remark.

But she recomposed herself. "When do you start looking at the body?"

"When I come." Came another voice. This one was eager and upbeat. This took Endza by surprise. This time it was a black man. "Where is it Mac?"

The lead detective turned to Stella then to Endza.

"She'll show you."

Endza opened her eyes wide.

"How do you even know that you can trust me?" She asked, mystified. Mac's sky blue eyes met golden ones.

"Until you prove to me that I shouldn't." Stella and the black man exchanged baffled glances. This was unlike Mac. He was not one taken by first impressions. What did this girl have that others didn't? Endza returned the gaze, making it even more piercing than the one she had just received. She gave a small grin and returned her gaze to the floor for a moment.

"I didn't catch your name.," she recalled to the black man with her slight accent. The CSI regained his composure

"Oh, um. Sheldon Hawkes." Endza once again, nodded to that. "So, um, where is this body?"

Chuckling slightly under her breath (only to the eagerness of course), the girl stood up and strode gracefully out of the room. Her steps gave a certain stealth that screamed mystical. The detectives felt a sudden warning to stay back. Yet they couldn't suspect this girl until they knew the COD and TOD.

"Rehearsal schedule." Flack all of a sudden said. They were never going to get to see this body.

"Walk with us Flack." Mac said, obviously thinking this.

"Okay, I know that at this point that we don't know how the guy died. But every girl and helicopter mom swears that they couldn't have killed this guy because they got here at one when the theatre opened. Apparently none of them saw this guy lying here on the floor at two P.M." Flack scoffed. "The schedule says 'arrive for make-up at one,' 'warm,-up at 1:45,' and 'costumes on two thirty. No one found this guy til 2:35. The moment everyone leaves, he dies. But then again…'

"Yeah, we haven't gotten a look at the body." Stella said kneeling down. "There is plenty of blood around his head. I'd say blunt force trauma."

Endza observed from the doorway. Someone had replaced her chair barrier with the actual yellow tape. She knew better than to cross in on police territory

Hawkes examined the man's hands and nails. "No signs of any struggle. No defensive wounds…"

"And none of the chickies said they heard any screaming, not like they'd hear anything." Flack added.

"Could that kill a man?" asked Endza, pointing to above their heads.

Everyone looked up.

"Where?" asked Mac.

"The backdrop?" All the eyes backstage turned their attention to the Winter Wonderland backdrop. The one thing that could kill a guy was sticking out at the top loop- a medal bar. The rusted medal bar was missing an essential piece of equipment- the rubber tip on the end.

"That was quick." Flack said bluntly.

Everyone sighed. Another case of backstage stupidity. Whoever put money on that one…

Mac searched the are for a stepping stool or something and found a short folding ladder. He estimated his height to be the same as the victims, give or take a few inches. Unfolding the equipment, he stepped up to the top to observe the metal bar. There was blood on the tip.

"Was this backdrop lowered when you all were warming up?" Mac asked.

"I honestly couldn't say. Many of them are already dropped, and simply pulled when they get the cue to go up. If you find the find Stage Manager, she may be able to tell you. I can't remember if that one is already lowered, or if lowers later in the show and just hides behind the psych." Flack raised an eyebrow in question. "It's the white, translucent drop that is meant for lights and projections."

Flack nodded to this new bit of information. Endza shifted her weight and rested into her right hip, she folded her arms, before resting her right hand on her cheek, in observation.

"They tell you not to stand underneath them, don't you?" Hawkes asked, gazing up at the enormous theatrical backdrops, already knowing the answer.

"Every show." She answered reassuringly. Everyone refocused their attention to Mac Taylor who was swabbing the end of the metal.

"Looks like someone lowered the drop, then realizing they had hit someone, pulled it back up." Mac suspected.

Stella walked over to the array of pulley systems responsible for holding, lowering, and lifting the backdrops. There was one, luckily, labeled "Snow drop." Hoping for some DNA evidence, she opened her kit and swabbed for epithelials.

"Miss Vavare… is that how you say it?" Flask asked. The girl nodded. "Is there anyway I can get the names of the backstage management crew from you? You're the only one cooperating."

Endza smirked and nodded. "I have a playbill in the dressing room."

"Sounds good." Endza nodded and proceeded down the hallway. Flack quietly consented and followed after her.

"So the girls have warm-up, finish, grab their belongings from the stage, leave, and this guy dies from blunt force trauma within five minutes of everyone gone?" Hawkes throws out. "This just sounds like a case of the stupid."

"Or of the accident. Be sure to get a tox screening and to run his background. He may have been intoxicated." Mac said, crawling down from the ladder.

"What if our stagehand was doing more than just pre-show duties? He may have spying on the little dance company." Stella threw out, placing her hands on her hips.

"I don't think our vic was guilty of that." Flack called from the doorway as he strode back into to join them, playbill in hand. "One of the apprentice company members said that another one of the stagehands though was acting like Creeper-McCreeper-cen, but not our dead guy. Maybe our vic stumbled on some stage management perv action and suffered the consquences."

"Maybe." Mac said, removing his gloves.

"So, what now?" asked Endza, from the doorway. She was very quiet. Even Flack forgot she had followed him back. It was quite evident she was more content in their company than in her fellow dancers.

"How many more shows do you have?" asked Stella. Even though they had to investigate a murder, she was showing a small interest. Both Hawkes and Mac knew about her dancing career. Mac stepped in.

"Planning to fill in?" he said with a teasing grin. Stella rolled her eyes and jabbed him with her elbow.

"Ha, oh yeah." She played back, before turning her attention back to the girl.

"We have one more show." She managed to fit in, catching on to the 'flirtation' in front of her.

"Well, as much as I would love to see Stella in tights and a tutu," Flack started, "I would still like to know why this not-so-messy-dead body caused an apocalypto like response. Okay, sure it's a dead body and all, but come on. I know these girls have to have seen movies or watch Tv or something'."

"People die everyday." Endza answered. "Most of us just aren't used to seeing them dead."

Flack nodded in a contemplative understanding.

"Maybe they thought he was taking a nap or something." She finished. "Who knows?" And turned to walk back to the dressing rooms, seeing that it was nearly time til 'places.'

That caught Mac on a snag for a moment.

"Why weren't you at warm-up?" She turned around to look at him.

"Oh, I rode with my friend, Anya. We got here late… again." She replied. "You can check with her, and with some of the senior company moms. They can all vouch for us."

"At 2:30?" asked Flack, suddenly concerned. Endza knew exactly where this was going. But she knew that she needed to remain calm.

"I was walking in the door at 1:50. The librarian had to let us in the door because our arms were full."

"Why did you get here late?" asked Hawkes.

"Anya walked out of her house at 1:30. Over slept. It happens. Especially during performances." She peered up at the pole. "They don't call it 'Hell Week' for nothing."

And with that she gazed with her golden irises, locking them with Mac's. There was a hint of hurt in her stare, causing Mac to feel a sudden hint of guilt. Not every person who is willing to appear that they are helping is guilty, and he knew that.

And with that, Endza slowly turned on her heels and left the backstage area.

"Now what?" asked Flack.

"Find the Stage Manager and the director. Run background checks on everyone. Hawkes," the doctor turned his head. "Get the body to autopsy."

Everyone nodded to their assignments and left, except for Stella, who hadn't obtained one.

The men in white came and covered the corpse and loaded it onto on to the gurney. After Flack had herded all the crazed ballerinas into the library and broke the news about the 'murder,' silence was the last thing any of them would ever hear. Flack could only roll his eyes when he overheard groups of girls explaining to their friends that they knew the man was dead all along but didn't want to alarm anyone. He was disgusted but he knew he wasn't allowed to show it. He had double-checked with every mother who wasn't in tears suffocating her daughter about being backstage during the man's death and confirmed that Endza did come in late. Man, Jess was going to kill him after he explains this one. Speaking of Jess… He began to dial some numbers.

If the brick building was ever to collapse, it would now. Collecting finger prints from the steel rods holding connecting the pulley systems to other ones found on the ladder, Mac found himself perplexed. He couldn't remember the last time that he had been distracted by a person at a crime scene- one whom he didn't consider a suspect. He was so deep in thought he didn't notice his partner walking towards him.

"Mac?" Stella asked her partner, concern edged in her tone. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah. I'm fine." He said, collecting an official blood sample from the blood pool where the victim had died. "Something just feels off, I guess."

"What's bothering you?" She said, crossing her arms.

"I don't know." He paused. "That girl, Endza. She…." He looked up at Stella. "I don't even know. I mean, if she hates the environment, why stay?"

Stella sighed and looked around, searching for a possible answer.

"Well, she said that she still had friends. There are the rewards that come with dancing. Knowing you have a talent. When I performed I loved it. The stage, the crowds, the applause; it's addicting."

"So why did you leave?" Mac asked, standing up straight. Stella peered back at him.

"I don't know. But, hey I like this job. At least the drama doesn't come from the actual people I work with." She said giving Mac her smug grin. All he could do was smugly grin back. _Ring, ring._

Mac fingered through his pocket to find his phone, a scowl suddenly appeared on his face.

"Sinclair." He said, frustrated.

"I take that back." Stella said rolling her eyes. Mac answered his phone, even though he was dying to ignore it.

"Taylor."

Stella walked off to leave Mac to steam on his own.

"Ms. Bonasera?" came a voice. She turned around. It was the girl herself.

"May I talk to you?" Endza asked.

"Sure." Stella responded. Endza led the detective outside to the cool and quiet evening air and walked out of the theatre outside by the SUVs. They turned to face each other. Stella was able to look Endza straight in the eye.

"I just wanted to thank you for coming down and investigating this whole thing. I know it's your job, but I still felt like I needed to thank you." She said sincerely.

"Of course. No problem." Stella said, with the same sincerity. "I was a dancer once. A long time ago."

Endza smiled.

"I understand the whole pointe shoe-blister-backstage-drama scenario. I don't get much of that now. Different drama."

"That was why Detective Taylor was teasing you about filling in." Endza said.

"Yeah. He's my partner. Teasing me apparently is his job." Endza smiled a little bigger. The two women shared a moment of quiet solitude, a connection that sometimes only stranger feel.

"I hope it didn't sound like I was complaining inside. I love dancing and I really do love this company. They're all beautiful dancers and beautiful girls. But when something goes wrong,…"

"… screaming doesn't fix it." Stella finished for her. The young woman nodded, before letting her gaze trail off to another part of the exterior of the theatre. Stella recognized the girl's silent loneliness and longed to let her know that she understood, but now was not the time.

"I have to get back to my team, but if you ever need anything…" Stella dug through her pocket. "I want you to give me a call."

Emerald eyes met golden ones and the detective handed the young dancer her card. In return, Endza let another smile grace her face, and nodded as a 'thank you.'

Then _BANG! _

It all happened in slow motion.

Endza's eyes rolled to the back of her head, her legs gave out from underneath her, and she slumped into a heap on the ground. Blood came trickling from her head, streaming and dampening her long brown hair into a red bloody mess.

"Endza!" she cried. She crouched down to the girl who now appeared to be dead. But then instinct kicked in with a mili-second. Grabbing her glock, she scanned the line of trees with her gun. Why hadn't she noticed the small forest behind the theatre before? She grabbed her radio.

"I need an ambulance and back-up at the West Side theatre immediately! I have a teenager with a gunshot to the head! I need assistance now!"

Not knowing if the shooter was still out there; all she could do was revert to another instinct. She bent down to the poor limp body laying on the cold concrete.

"Mac! Mac, I need you out here now!" she yelled furiously. She had the poor girl's head cradled in her lap.

Mac burst out of the backstage door. He had heard the shot but had no idea where it came from.

"What happened?" he asked now in police mode.

"She just wanted to thank me for doing my job and all of a sudden a gun went off and now she has a bullet in her head!" Stella exclaimed, exasperated.

Mac was now kneeling down next to Stella hoping to help stop the bleeding. Wait,… she was still bleeding…

"Mac…" came a faint whisper.

Both detectives froze.

They looked down to the girl in their hands. Her eyes were dead still and glazed over. "I can't see."

Dun, dun, DUN! I'm so mean. What shall happen to Endza? I have the biggest story idea in the history of story ideas! But you have to review in order to find out. Muahahahahaha!


	3. Chapter 3

Ah! Yay! New chapter! And yes, to those who know me, you may think that Endza is similar to me. She sort of is, but she is that alter ego inside my head kind of person. Many of my attributes apply to her. This is what goes on inside my head. Enjoy!

The sirens of the ambulance could be heard within minutes and the wheels of the vehicle screeched as it froze to a halt. EMTs exploded out of the back as Hawkes and Flack met Mac and Stella by the SUVs.

"What the hell happened?" Flack yelled. Hawkes knelt down to Stella helping to cradle the poor girl's head.

"Don't squeeze too hard now." Said Hawkes. "I'll go with her."

"So am I." Mac suddenly said. Every one of the detectives paused, but only for a second.

The EMTs unloaded the gurney. And that was when Hawkes took over.

"Endza Vavare, 16 years old, was shot in the head but is still breathing." He said. Mac watched, frozen, as the EMTs loaded the gurney with the dying girl inside. He hadn't told anyone that Endza had spoken to them after she was shot.

"Mac!" he shook himself out of his mindset. "Are you coming?"

Mac bounded onto the ambulance and slammed the doors shot. The sirens wailed, and the vehicle zoomed, leaving Flack and Stella to revel in what just happened. Minutes went by where nothing was exchanged. Both detectives stared onward onto the concrete road where a dying teen may spend her last fleeting moments. It seemed like hours before someone finally spoke up.

"What the hell happened Stella?" asked Flack. His question was only higher than a whisper.

"I don't know." Stella said in return, her tone the same as his. "We were just standing out here talking and before I knew it she was on the ground, bleeding... right in front of me."

Stella took a deep breath.

"When Mac got out here, Flack, she opened her eyes," Flack looked at Stella. "But only a little. She told Mac that… she couldn't see anything."

Stella felt like she was on the verge of tears. She had not felt this awful in all of her life. She was the police officer, the detective, the protector of New York City and she couldn't even protect the girl who was standing right in front of her.

Flack had no idea what to do except to reach out and offer a comforting shoulder rub to his friend and fellow detective.

"Stella." Said Flack. She slowly turned her head to offer her attention. "We are going to figure out who did this, why he did this, and make sure he pays for it. We'll get this bastard. I promise. We'll get him."

Stella nodded. It didn't necessarily ease the pain but his comfort was helping.

"Call Danny." She said. Flack did as he was told.

Mac could not find anything to hold on to in the ambulance. He had ridden in them several times before but for some reason he felt like he was being ripped around in a roller coaster. The two EMTs were stabilizing Endza as Hawkes was on the phone. Mac didn't know whom it was, but of course he would be told in a few minutes.

Blood was oozing out of the back of Endza's head,… on both sides. Wait,… that means the bullet wasn't in her head.

"Excuse me!" Mac called over the sirens. "Can you lift her head up for me?"

"Sir that may not be good idea." One of the men answered.

"Just for a second." The man paused before he complied and gently lifted Endza's bleeding head off the gurney. Her hair was coated with blood. "Hawkes, what do you see?"

The CSI told the person on the other line to hold.

"A bullet hole?" He said quizzically. "What do you see?"

Mac looked up. "A bullet hole." Hawkes eyes went wide.

Mac rummaged around in his pocket, nearly ripping it off his jacket. Where was his phone? Ah ha! He pressed one for speed dial. _Come on, pick up the phone,_

"Bonesera." Came a voice that was obviously trying to hide the stress in her tone.

"Stella." He said eagerly. He sounded like a little boy who had just found his puppy dog, but for Mac this was obviously under different circumstances.

"Mac?" asked Stella. But before she could ask him why he was calling her he cut in.

"Endza has two bullet holes in her head. Now I heard the shot there was only one. Which means that it was a clean shot." He paused. "Stella. That bullet is still out there. And I need you to find it."

[_cue theatre setting_]

Stella slammed her phone shut.

"Flack!" she yelled. Her heart had hardly beaten this fast before. "Did you call Danny?"

"Yeah. He said he would get here as soon as possible." He said reaching for his radio. "What did Mac have to say?"

"That bullet is here." Stella said. Flack understood immediately. "We have to find it."

"Stell," Flack said before she could turn around and head back into her SUV for her kit. "That couk could still be out there in those woods. I don't want you to get started until I get some more officers panning around, kay?"

Stella was so close to object but knew what he meant. She consented and gave him her nod.

"Kay." Flack walked off with his radio, leaving Stella to fiddle with her phone.

If she couldn't stay out here she had to do something. But what she could get information on? They didn't have a suspect. Endza wasn't on Syd's table,… yet. Stella rubbed her forehead as she pushed the theatre doors open. But… Endza.

Stella froze. _Endza. She's a girl. She has friends. Oh snap. Oh what's her face? Anna? No, uh,…_

Stella stormed down the corridor in search of the senior company dressing rooms. _Allie? No…_ The chatter of teenage girls filled her ears as she charged through the hair sprayed filled air. Moms were discussing with their daughters, probably of they had to put the day's event's behind them and go and put on a pretty performance. _Yes! Found it._

She knocked on the wooden door. Looking down at her watch she realized that there was about 15 minutes before the curtain was supposed to go up. They were missing a dancer. _Stella, don't even think about it. You are in the middle of an investigation. You haven't danced in years. You shouldn't even be having this conversation with yourself! Darn! What is this girl's name? _The door opened but only an inch. It was a mother with ribbon around her neck and thread and scissors in her hands.

"Yes?" she asked. "Can I help you?"

"Yes ma'am." Stella said back, hoping that none of the desperation was showing in her face. "I'm looking for… Anya." _Got it._

The woman gave her that 'you've got to be serious' look for only a moment before opening the door for Stella to walk through.

"Anya." She called. A girl poked her head up from behind a table. "Mrs. Detective needs to talk to you."

_You've gotta be kidding me._ Stella thought to herself.

"Okay one second." The girl called out. "Let me put something over my cami."

Stella sighed. _Hmm…,_ the carpeting had a nice pattern to it.

"Yes?" Stella looked up. A girl with blonde hair, a tad taller than Lindsay was standing in front of her. She had her make-up done and a simple netted tiara was occupying her head.

"Um, yes." Stella regained herself. "I'm Detective Bonesera. You're a good friend with Endza Vavare`, right?"

"Endz? Yeah." She nodded. "Me and little Teri over there."

Anya pointed over to where she sitting before. Another blonde girl, shorter than Anya was sitting finishing her make-up. She had a much more petite figure than Anya and was definitely a lot smaller than Endza. Ballerina body maybe, but she was a very pretty girl.

"Would you like to talk to her too? The three of us are like a threesome, uh, friend wise."

Stella grinned.

"Hey Ter!" Anya called.

"What?" the smaller teen called back.

"The detective wants to talk to us." She said. This caught the attention of some of the other girls in the dressing room, but Anya brushed it off.

"Okay, one second." Teri called back. "Let me just… okay, got it."

Teri placed her mascara back in her kit and stood. But once she stood up and met eyes with Stella, it was like a huge storm cloud had begun to hover. Stella kept the composure in her face. This was not the place. Not like it was the time either.

The two girls followed the detective out of the room. The short walk was in silence. The teens knew they did nothing wrong but still it was awkward. They stopped in a more quiet part of the hallway. Teri and Anya leaned against the wall and faced Stella. They looked like two schoolgirls about to receive a lecture from a nun.

"I need to know about Endza." Stella said. _No beating around the bush._

Teri gave a glance towards Anya. "Did something happen?"

"Yeah, where did she go? Last any of us saw her was when she in the backstage area with you." Anya butted in. Stella sighed deeply. Hopefully these two can handle news better than their fellow performers.

"She… was just shot… outside of the theatre." Stella revealed.

Teri's eyes flew wide open as Anya closed her own and tilted her head towards the floor. Teri let out a shaky breath. She pursed her lips, making it her best effort not to make any eye contact with the detective. There were several moments of silence before Anya spoke up.

"Is she dead?" she asked plainly, looking at the wall beyond the officer. Stella took a lungful of air.

"Well, when the ambulance arrived she was still breathing. She actually talked to my partner before they loaded her on. I haven't received a call about her yet, so. " she paused to let it sink in. "Time will tell."

Both girls nodded to that. A few more moments of silence….

"Where… was she shot, if I may ask?" Anya asked, her words fading in to a whisper. Stella pondered on whether to tell them. But these were Endza's friends. Hopefully Mac's advise on first impressions was correct…

"In the head." She said, feeling defeated. But when she glanced up to take in the girl's reactions, there wasn't drama in the form of crying on each other's shoulders. Both girls had shot their heads up and were staring into Stella's eyes like they were made out of actual emeralds. Stella was caught off guard. "Is there something I should know?"

Stella understood being shot in the head can be a shock, but these girls were shocked in a different way. Not in the 'OMG, she's gonna die! No!' way but in the 'What did you say?' way.

"No. Nothing that we can tell you." Anya responded, with an emphasis on the 'we.' Teri turned to her friend and lay her head on her shoulder, hands curled into her chest. It was personally one of the sweetest things Stella had seen all day. Anya wrapped her arms around her heartbroken friend. "Are we allowed to tell the other girls? I mean, we need to have a reason for why Endza isn't performing."

"Um, just tell them that she hurt herself. Twisted an ankle. Either way, she's at the hospital." Stella told them.

The girls nodded. "Do you know anyone who might want to hurt her?"

The girls exchanged another look, one that was filled with a nervous tension.

"We don't know anyone personally. No. But Endza has been giving us these feelings like

someone is following her. Ever since she joined, she always seems to be looking over her

shoulder. She gets here late so she isn't left alone in a public place for too long. And after performaces, she only stays on stage for about 15 minutes to take pictures. She hates being in the open." Teri explained.

"Then why does she perform on stage?" Stella asked confused.

"Who would hurt you onstage? There are plenty of people to see something happen."

Anya clarified. "Besides, she loves to perform. Had that different element that the

director liked. Not one for ballet, but she'll go far in dancing if she stays in it." Stella nodded as she took it all in. Then she remembered something very crucial.

"Do either one of you have her parent's contact information?"

A tad confused both girls just stared at the detective.

"Or will her parents be here tonight?"

"No." Teri said, still a tad surprised.

"They don't come to their daughter's performances?" Stella asked, slightly stunned.

"She didn't tell you?" Anya asked.

"Tell me… what?" Stella asked in return, intrigued in a very worried way.

"Endza doesn't have any parents."

Dun, Dun, DUN! Again! Ha! No worries! I PROMISE! you that the next chapter won't take as long. What shall happen to Endza? Will the show go on? Blag, who cares about the freaking show! LOL.


	4. Chapter 4

_Okay, so I totally lied. The next chapter took forever because for 1) I had no idea how to take the next step and 2) I got super busy. But here we go._

Mac stood outside the hospital room door, the beeping of the machines giving a melancholy score to the situation. Hands in his pockets, eyes on the sleeping girl, Mac could not make heads or tails of what was going on. Hawkes had just called him, explaining they had followed the trajectory of the where the bullet had come from, looked at every possible angle, and examined every leaf on the ground outside the theatre, only to come up with nothing.

"Detective Taylor?" came a voice. It was Endza's doctor. "Doctor Jenson."

"What can you tell me?" Mac asked, in a very tired tone.

"Good news actually. I've never seen anything like this. She is quite stable. All her vitals are good. The brain damage is very minimal. If anything she may have trouble with her sight since the bullet grazed that part of the brain. Amnesia should be expected though I must warn you. But other than that, she's just sleeping right now. When she wakes up, I'll let you know." With that, the man gave a reassuring grin and was ready to head to his next destination.

"Doctor." Mac said before the physician left. "What about the bullet?"

The doctor sighed.

"We don't know. It isn't lodged in her brain. It's probably still out there somewhere." He said, knowing this only offered little reassurance/ "Detective, I promise that we'll do everything we can to make sure that she is out of here as quickly as possible. That girl is quite the fighter." He paused. "Have you contacted the parents yet?"

"We're looking for them now." Mac answered.

"Okay." Dr. Jenson said, before his pager went off. "If you'll excuse me."

Mac nodded and the man left.

_Ring ring_

Mac dug through his pocket for hi phone.

"Taylor." He answered in his usual way.

"Mac, it's me." Came the voice of his partner.

"What have you got?" he asked Stella, hoping for something to run with.

"Endza's friends couldn't give me much on who would want to kill her. They have noticed her behavior has been odd comparatively. They said that ever since she joined the ballet company, she has been looking over her shoulder quite a bit."

"Has anyone contacted her parents?" he asked.

"Mac, she doesn't have any parents."

Silence.

"They didn't tell me where they were because they didn't know themselves. I'm having Flack look into it right now. See if we can pull up death records or something. He's planning on interviewing some of the mother's around the performance. But Mac, there is another thing: Endza is a protégée. She has already passed college level. The state allowed her to live on her own. Flack still has to give me her address, but when he does I'll go and see if I can find something."

"I'm going with you." Mac added.

"Okay." Stella said in return. After a short pause. "How is she?"

"Better than expected." Said Mac, turning to look through the hospital window. "The doctor says that it's like she wasn't even shot. She is as stable as can be."

"That's amazing." Stella said. Mac could hear the marveling tone in her voice.

"I know. Something is very strange about this, Stella. I just…" He sighed deeply. "… don't know what."

"We'll figure it out, Mac." Stella reassured him. "We will."

"Yeah." He said, not so reassured. "I'll see you later."

And he hung up.


	5. Chapter 5

**Alright. Here we go. Let's get it started since this has been so darn slow. Remember, this is fanfiction. The next medical procedure that Endza will through probably does not exist but I can daydream right? I can't let her go blind. Nothing would work.**

Hawkes creeped along the brick wall, magnifying glass in hand. '_This bullet had to be here somewhere. The trajectory doesn't lie.'_ He wiped the sweat from his brow, frustrated. Everything had gone by so fast. The shot, the rush to the hospital, the call that the girl was up and stable; that just doesn't happen. He had left the hospital telling the doctors to let him know of any development and it was them who had made the call, not Mac. In all his years of being a doctor, sure people have been walked out the hospital after being shot in the head, but not with out serious side affects. Loss of smell, loss of ability to do the most basic things, loss of memory...

Hawkes was so buried in his own thoughts her almost didn't hear the _cling_ that sounded. He looked down at where he thought the heard the apparent sound.

His breath caught in his throat.

He had found the bullet.

It had mushroomed. But the no doubt could get some stria from it. He measured, photographed, and tagged it. They were going to get this guy.

Stella walked down the hospital corridors. Mac hadn't even called. It had been hours since she had seen him. This wasn't like him at all. He usually appears, gets his answers, on occasion may chat, but usually leaves right away.

'_They said she was on the third floor in ICU. Where else would she be?'_ The room number she was given was wrong. The room was empty actually. Mac was with this girl and Stella didn't know where. _She was shot in the head! She should be up here._

"Excuse me." Stella asked an oncoming nurse. "I'm looking for Detective Taylor. He isn't in the room I was told he would be in. You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?"

"Oh yes ma'am." The nurse replied kindly. Stella could see the woman eyeing her badge, which usually meant she was going to receive the needed information. "He is up in the OR with the young girl who was shot a few hours ago. She is scheduled to have surgery within the hour."

"Thank you." Stella said graciously, before turning on her heels. But then she stopped. "Wait. What is the girl having surgery for?"

The nurse turned back to the detective.

"I don't know for sure. Possibly to repair the hole in her skull." The nurse paused. "I don't think any of us have seen a case like hers, ma'am."

Stella could feel her chest tighten.

"She's a miracle that girl." With that, the petite woman walked off.

Stella just stood there for a moment. Endza was still alive. She didn't know how much and she didn't know how long, but she was still alive. Her friends would be glad to hear that.

She turned around and made her way back to the elevator. After pushing the 'Up' arrow she realized what was bothering her so. From what her friends had told her, Endza was an orphan. That of course struck a nerve Stella wished would just die. But Flack found no foster parents, not even an aunt or an uncle. He found no family what so ever. How? How could that be? The elevator opened and she stepped inside pushing the correct button for the OR. With no idea of what condition this girl could be in, Stella feared for the worst. She could be paralyzed or have mental problems requiring special treatment… and no one to look after her.

The tears were fighting to come out but Stella wouldn't allow it. She needed to see Endza. She needed to see Mac. Everything needed to be okay. Living this down could be one of the hardest things Stella would have to live through.

The doors opened and Stella briskly walked out. She looked flustered and she knew it. The OR had made several appearances in her career so she knew exactly where it was, which was kind of sad. Making turns around bland white painted cinder block walls, the OR appeared within five minutes of her arriving on the seventh floor. The hastened steps finally came to a halt when Stella found her figure of comfort staring into a window of on the operating rooms. His stance was the usual Mac Taylor stance. Hands in pockets, face forward, concentration who knows where.

Stella sighed and slowly made her way to her partner's side. He turned to her for just a moment before returning his attention back to the business that was happening through the glass. Stella gave him a longing look before she did the same. Her face softened.

Inside the sanitized room were about four nurses and two specialized doctors. They were all suited up for what looked like was going to be an extensive surgery. And there she was- the sixteen year old. She was hooked to so many machines. Catheters left and right, tubes in places Stella didn't know were possible. The one thing Stella noticed that was different was the Endza was on her side. The doctors had shaved a small part of her hair off of the back of her head to reveal the small entry wound. It had stopped bleeding. Stella sighed. By the looks of it, Endza was out cold. Good.

The confusion was burning like wild fire in Stella's mind. She needed answers now. Why Mac hadn't called her, the real reason Endza was in surgery and… how she was still alive?

The last thought seemed to come to her in a whisper almost. Her green eyes couldn't leave the young face from across the glass. She looked so helpless. Her position resembled that of an innocent animal who met its fate by the tires of a speeding vehicle. _'I'm just so optimistic today, aren't I?'_ Stella though mocking herself.

Mac glanced at his partner who know had the same expression that he had only hours before. The look of complete hopelessness was very evident on the woman's face and he knew she needed to know. Besides the tension coming from her would probably break her within a few minutes.

"She's going to be fine Stella." He said in his husky whisper. Stella turned to look at him.

"How do you know?" She asked quietly. "Actually, let's start this way. How come you didn't call me?"

Mac looked at his feet for a second then back through the window before meeting her gaze.

"I suppose I got so caught up in making sure she was okay I… forgot." He said almost ashamed. "This has been so unusual."

Stella quirked her head to the side in the way she usually does when she wants him to go on.

"I was sitting outside of her room when she woke up." He started. Stella's eyes went wide. "That's right. She woke up. It scared me if anything. But there she was, sitting in her bed. After talking to her for a few minutes, I realized that, " he took a deep breath. "… She can no longer see. The color in her eyes was gone. She only blinked half as much. She made no effort to study my face or her environment. It was as if she was dreaming. After asking the doctors about it, they told me that bullet tore through her visual cortex. Now I don't know all the details, but the doctors said they are going to look at the damage and may possibly be able to repair it."

Stella nodded, still waiting for the wave of relief to wash over her. It hadn't come yet.

"If they can repair it, there is a chance she may be able to see again." Mac said turning to face her completely. Stella was getting the impression that Endza regaining her sight meant a lot to Mac.

"Mac." Stella started. "Where is she going to go if they can't?"

Mac furrowed his brow. No one had told him.

"Endza has no parents, no family near by... Flack can't even locate any distant family members." Stella explained. "I don't want her staying at some special institution for the rest of her life."

Mac sighed and returned his gaze back to his feet.

"Could she stay with any of her friends?" Mac asked. Stella though about it for a second but shook her head.

"We don't know the full extent of her injuries and if she must, we may have to discuss the details of the investigation and we don't know how long this will take." The hopelessness in her voice was evident.

"Could she stay with one of us?" Mac asked looking up at her, with his straight face.

Stella was taken back for a second.

"Yeah, that's probably not a good idea." Mac started, looking back down at his feet for the 8th time in those five minutes.

"She can stay with me." Stella suddenly said. She hadn't even thought it all the way through. She even gave make the look of _'Did I just say that?'_

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity- blue on green.

"You.. you think that will be okay?" Stella asked, voice shaking a tad.

Mac sighed and pursed his lips.

"I don't see why not." He said digging through his pockets in a fidgeting manner. "We just need to be careful and make sure this suspect isn't trying to kill Endza as a personal matter. Last thing we need is you to end up in there." He said gesturing to the operating room. "Or worse."

Stella nodded. No take backs.


	6. Chapter 6

Mac was deep. Deep in thought. Deeper than usual.

Stella was deep. Deep in thought, possibly deeper than Mac.

Silence in the SUV was quieter than usual as well. Mac had his eyes on the road, Stella's on her hands in her lap- both trying to get back to the lab as quickly as possible. The air in the car was cool and collected, and the detectives basking in it. But the trouble was easily sensed.

_Bzzz, bzzz_

Stella shook her head slightly to the familiar sound of her cell. She was momentarily confused of its location due to the fact that her head had been taking a vacation in the clouds lately.

"Stella." Said Mac. Stella looked up at him. "It's in your jacket pocket."

Stella dug through her right hand pocket, feeling the smooth exterior of the buzzing object. She glanced at the caller ID before opening it.

"Bonesera." She responded in her detective demeanor.

Mac listened inventively, hoping whoever it was had some good news, something to follow. But that all crashed when Stella gave a sad sigh as an answer to whatever news the caller had given. Mac could feel his chest sinking into his gut.

"That was Danny." Stella started. "Hawkes was able to ID a gun brand, but not the actual type."

Mac raised an eyebrow.

"I know seriously." Stella agreed. "The stria didn't match anything in IBIS and Flack and his officers found nothing in the woods. They had dogs and everything, Mac. Lindsay even accompanied Danny out to the theatre to set up a 3-D imagery, trajectory and all. The line of the bullet kept leading them back to where Flack and his men had already searched."

Mac let out a tired sigh. He had stayed up the whole night. In fact, his whole team had. Fatigue would soon be haunting him and with this lack of evidence, he didn't know what move to make next.

"Let's just go back to the lab and see what we've got." He said. "If it doesn't look like much…"

He got stuck there. He never gave up on a case and cold cases never really happened to him. The only lead they would have, would have to come out of Endza. Her currently unknown condition was pestering him endlessly. Surgeries always took way too long.

Before they even knew it, they were at the lab. Both detectives silently yet speedily climbed out the SUV and hurried over to the elevator. The answers had to be somewhere.

"Hawkes." Mac called.

The former M.E. shot his head towards his boss. The computer screen he was currently looking at was probably going to give him tunnel vision by the next morning.

"Hey Mac." Hawkes said, with a twinge of defeat etched in his voice.

"You really have nothing?" Mac asked. Hawkes licked his lips with confusion.

"I wouldn't say nothing but this bullet is different. I can't really narrow it done to a specific gun, but I can tell you,.." he paused looking his boss straight in the eye. "You wouldn't find it here."

Mac paused.

"Wh-what do you mean?" he asked, stumbling over his words.

"The bullet's details are consistent with a certain foreign make. It could fit into a number of guns. There isn't very much information at all. I think our shooter was depending on that. I don't know if it is a new brand or old. Either way, I can't give you much." Hawkes said with a sigh. "I'm sorry."

Mac pursed his lips and patted Hawke's shoulder. The black man gave a slight nod, knowing that he did what he could.

. . . . . . . .

As Mac walked down the corridor, he rubbed his temple. If Endza was going to make it out, how could he tell her that they couldn't catch the man who had done this? They had never had such lack of evidence before. And it was causing so much pain.

"Mac." He turned his head to see Flack walking up behind him. He didn't look very satisfied.

"Please tell me you have something to ease this migraine of a day." Mac said.

"Sorry Taylor. My guys found nothing. The dogs picked up a scent but lost it down by the creek running behind the theatre." Flack stated. "I talked to the few, and by few I mean three people, who were outside of the theatre. They were all backstage people and all can be accounted for during the time of the shooting."

Mac closed his eyes and nodded.

"And Mac." Flack stared again. "Word got out that Endza was shot. I don't know how but it did. We used it to our advantage and asked if anyone knew of anybody who would want to hurt Endza. They all said she kept to herself and, get ready for this, only spent her time dancing and finishing her college courses."

That got Mac's attention.

"Walk with me." Mac said, gesturing Flack to follow him. "Go on."

"Right. I decided to look into that. She takes online classes and will be graduating this semester. She will have a B. in Biology, B.A. in Theatre Art, and it said she is continuing in Psychology."

"Anything from that?" Mac asked. They might actually get a suspect out of this. Wait, graduating?

"Not really. None of the teachers actually see their students, but they all said Endza never turned in reports late and always flew by in flying colors."

"So she is finishing up college at age sixteen?" Mac asked intrigued.

"Yep. I could hardly finish tenth grade at that age." Flack said in a serious tone.

"So technically, we're looking at a genius." Mac said. "Thanks Don."

"Sure thing." Mac turned to go his way. "Hey Mac."

The former marine turned around and looked Flack straight in the eye.

"Be sure to get some sleep."

Mac nodded to that.

"Hawkes!" Sheldon sat straight up in his chair. Wait, was he sleeping?

"Yeah,… boss." He said groggily. "What do you need?"

"What's your IQ?" Mac asked plainly.

The question sent Hawkes mind in a scurry. Was he in trouble?

"Mac, I'm so sorry. I promise you won't find me sleeping on the job ever again." He said as quickly as possible. He felt like little kid who failed his math test, not like he ever did that.

Mac realized what Hawkes thought he meant.

"No, Hawkes it's alright. Good to know, but that's not why I asked you that."

"Oh." Hawkes said, taking a breather. "Um, 150, I think. Why?"

"Turns out our gun shot victim is a protégée." Mac said taking a seat. "She will be graduating from an online college course this spring with degrees in Biology and Theatre Art. Flack said she would continue pursuing Psychology."

Hawkes nodded, with wide eyes. He was impressed.

"You don't think someone shot her because of her high IQ do you?" he asked.

Mac shook his head.

"I don't know. But it's a start."


	7. Chapter 7

Flack sat back in his chair. It wasn't the comfiest chair he had ever been in, but he couldn't complain. He was on hospital duty now. Hands folded in his lap, back of his head rested against the wall behind him, he sighed. He glanced at his watch on his left wrist.

"Forty-five minutes, Donnie boy." He said to himself quietly. His legs were falling asleep. He had been in this position before; waiting in hospital room, outside in the hallway, it wasn't new. He pushed himself out of his seat, stuck his hands in his pockets and walked down the hallway. He made his way down to her room.

Of course there was nothing he could do. Watching her take her even breaths wouldn't speed up the healing process, and glancing down at his watch every 7 seconds wouldn't make her wake up. The surgery was a success. The doctors were able to repair almost all the damage the bullet had caused. She was still lying on her side. They were worried what would happen if they moved her position from how they had it in surgery.

Flack shook his head. This girl was probably the luckiest human being on the face of the planet. A person doesn't walk away from a gunshot wound to the head every day. But at the same time, she could be the most unlucky human being on the face of the planet. No one knew the exact effects the bullet had caused. She could actually paralyzed, blind,… different lost functions… she might not be able to hear… she may have actually lost her sight… who knew. The least of their worries should be amnesia. Of course, many don't remember the moment of the attack anyway. But to have to live the rest of your life without the use of your eyes, ears, a hand,… Flack squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't even know if he could do it.

And she would have to do it all alone. Flack's heart sank to his knees.

"Oh my God." He whispered out loud. That sixteen-year old girl lying on the hospital bed in front of him, would have to face her recovery alone. No family. Hardly any friends. It was just…

Then he stopped. Everything around him was silent. There was no sound. No voices. No thoughts. It was just him. He could not take his eyes off of the vision through the glass window in front of him. It was like an invisible force was holding the there. There was.

Eyes.

Golden brown irises were peering right back at him. Her eyelids were squinting to avoid being blinded by the light. She blinked slowly, having to use most of her face to help her. Exhaustion haunted her features as well as confusion. She didn't make any sudden moves. It was as if she was deep in thought. Flack was so absorbed with her every feature, it was almost as if she was pulling him in with an invisible force.

Flack realized that he wasn't breathing. Exhaling a breath that was in way too long, he dug through his pocket for his phone.

He didn't take his eyes off for one second as he pressed the correct speed dial number.

"Mac." He said. "She's awake."


	8. Chapter 8

Mac was on autopilot. Adrenaline was quietly driving him. He'd gotten that phone call and the moment he had hung up, he half way to his SUV. He was like a man with only tunnel vision. A state he was known for on many occasions. Stella was hot on his tale, silent as well. He didn't tell Stella why he was leaving. He frankly didn't have to. She knew exactly where he was going. She just didn't know why. But she saw it. The flame in his eyes. This wasn't one of anger. But of perseverance, and the chasing of the truth. She wasn't going to ask him. She was sure that in these situations, adrenaline had burn his ears so that he couldn't hear anything. She would just have to find out. He practically jumped into his seat as he locked the driver's side door and tuned on the ignition. Stella barely had enough time to put on her own seat belt before Mac was screaming the black vehicle out of the parking garage on to the cold streets on New York City. His undivided attention was on the frozen road ahead of him, his eyes never leaving the frost covered windshield acting as the barrier. Stella would take occasional confused glances at him, her pulse also racing. All she knew was that this wasn't about some random piece of evidence, even if it was case breaking. This was about the girl. About Endza.

Flack had counted the fingers on his hands about 12 times and he was sure that the hallway had about 159 tiles within the 20 feet of ceiling to his left.

The doctor himself was baffled. Don didn't know what that meant. Was that a good thing? Or was that a bad thing? Okay she was awake. So far that looked like an amazing thing. But what would they do next? What about the girl? Was she even aware of…?

"Flack."

Don looked up to see the hurried bodies of his fellow detectives.

"How is she?" Mac asked regaining his breath. Stella looked partially stunned.

"What is this about? What happened?" She asked.

Don glanced at Mac with pursed lips. He knew why mac needed to keep quiet until now. Mac turned to his partner.

"Endza's awake. She's talking. And she can see."

Flack was leaning against the wall. Stella was sitting back in the chair. And of course Mac was pacing. Despite the fact that their victim/ primary witness was awake, they were not given the 'okay' to go in and speak with her. Her brain was still in tender shape and a cognitive interview was not recommended. Of course Mac was not convinced and he full out told the doctor that they weren't leaving unless they were needed elsewhere. The doctor, being a smart one, didn't fight it.

"When did she wake up?" Stella asked.

"She woke up about an hour ago. At least that's when I noticed." Flack answered. "For all I know she could have been awake all day. I didn't come in to check on her until noon."

"Alright detectives." Came a voice. Flack stood up straight, Mac held still, and Stella left her stiff chair. "She refuses to fall back asleep and insists she's fine."

The detectives' eyes went wide.

"Yes. She's awake. Like I said before, this is has us all baffled. The surgeon, the neurologist, the psychologist, even the resident. We've seen plenty of mind blowing cases detective. But her's is exceptional."

"I understand that her even waking up is remarkable doctor." Mac explained. "But what else has she exhibited?"

"You should be asking what she hasn't been exhibiting. She can talk fluidly and clearly. She can move her hands and toes. She can hear, blink,… we even let her have a sip of water. She was pretty dehydrated when she was came in, but that's taken care of. But like I was saying, it was like she wasn't even shot. One thing we don't know is if she can walk upright. We haven't let her move from the position she is now. And we don't know yet if any memory ha been affected, and of what kind. Physically, muscle memory seems to be intact. Beyond that, well, is your job I suppose. Let's just say she has given me a new respect for ballet dancers." He made a nod for his speech. "One at a time would be appreciated."

As the doctor walked down the corridor, both Flack and Stella silently chose Mac.

"I guess it's going to be me."

_So four F*CKING years later, I decide to continue. But within those four years, I have an actual storyline, a cross over, a score (in my head of course) and a new title! I edited old chapters too soooooooooo… hopefully we can continue this shin-dig! :D_

Mac carefully and quietly opened the door. The patient in question was sitting up, hair pulled back from her face, head partially bandaged, and focus on her occupied hands – the bed sheet needed to be twisted into knots whether or not it knew what was good for it. She knew Mac had entered the room.

Mac pulled a lonely chair from the corner and placed it next to the bed, sitting on her right. She glanced up in a head tilt at the detective, lonely and stoic taking over the emotions in her features.

Mac took a breath. " How do you feel?"

"Alive." She answered after a moment. There was no sarcasm in her tone. It was as if her answer was a mental shrug of a reaction.

"You have the doctors pretty baffled." Mac added. "You have us pretty baffled too."

He gestured slightly to the direction of his colleagues outside. She lifted her eyes to the window, and he could have sworn he saw an edge of a grin grace her face.

"It's not everyday I suppose that people call you a miracle." She said, her voice only above a whisper. The words were encouragement to her.

"Well, you are." He reassured. There was a long pause, before he finally asked. "Endza, do you have any idea who would have wanted to do this to you?"

Endza, defeated, looked back down at her hands.

"Detective Taylor," she started. "I have no idea. I can't remember anything."


	9. Chapter 9

**Look at me updating! :D**

Mac took a pause and stared. His lips pursed as the investigational hurdle came to a halt right in front of him. She couldn't remember anything. What qualified as "anything?" Her past? Short-term? I mean, she recognized him. But did one of the doctors or nurses fill her in? So many question. He looked down at his folded hands.

He knew the bags under his eyes probably were more visible, and the creases on his forehead were far more prominent, but he didn't care. He let out a silent sigh and gathered up his courage to look back up at the young woman. She was bent over stretching, her legs out in front of her. Her left hang lay on her left knee, while her right hand rested in her lap. Even for someone in a hospital, she was still quite flexible. Her eyes were lost in the off-white paint of the wall with the dry-erase board scribbled with her basic information.

"Would you excuse me for a moment?" Mac asked. Endza turned her head to look at him, and with a humble expression, gave a slight nod as her permission. Mac nodded to that and stood. As he reached the door, he gave the girl one last glance. She met his gaze, only to let hers slowly fall to stare at her hands. A sheet of absolute defeat consumed her being, and the mysterious independent aura that originally surrounded her when they met had shrunk. She may claim to not remember much, but there was one thing she did remember – she had no one.

Mac quietly turned the handle and left the room. As he stepped outside, and shut the door behind him, he noticed his fellow detectives also felt uneasy. Doubt replaced their usual confident features. They wanted answers. Stella, with her arms crossed in front of her in protection, turned to Mac and asked.

"What did she say?"

Mac looked at the ground and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She uh, she said she doesn't remember anything."

Stella's eyes widened just a tad. She tilted her head and returned her gaze to the window. "But she looked like she remembered you."

"What does she mean by 'anything?'" Flack asked.

"I don't know. I'm about to go back in and find out. But we have nothing on her. We don't where she came from, who her parents are or what happened to them, if she had any siblings, if she was even born in this country. I doubt her short-term memory was touched but that can only help us so much anyway." Mac explained.

"I have both Hawkes and Adam running what they can on this." Stella added. "If she has any connections out there, we'll find them."

Both men nodded in agreement.

"I guess we'll just play it by ear." Mac said.

"Mac, there is still some jackass running around New York with an unregistered, unidentifiable, foreign gun. What should we do about that?" Flack asked with a slight desperation in his voice. Mac thought and sighed.

"Keep the area canvassed until the end of the show. If Hawkes can't find anything on it, that's what were going to have to use. Hopefully, a name or face will pop up, from either her memory or from a computer screen." Mac answered.

"You gonna talk to her?"

Mac turned to look at the girl through the window.

"Yeah. I'm going to see what I can do. Hopefully, she does remember something, and hopefully it's enough to buy us some answers." He explained.

"Has the media contacted you at all?" Stella asked out of the silence.

"No." Mac said, shaking his head. "And that's good. If the son of a bitch is out there watching, let's hope he thinks she's dead."

Flack stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Well, I'll send some of my guys back out to the theatre to patrol for a little while and get some emergency procedures out to the company just in case the shooter returns. But I'll be at the precinct in case anything comes up." And with he turned on his heels and walked down the hospital corridor. The two leads watched him leave. Stella turned back to her partner, rubbing her hands together anxiously.

"I'm going to go back to the lab and help Hawkes and Adam." That's all she said. There was little to look at, so there was no need to explain what she could help with. "Call me if you need anything."

"You know I will." Mac said quietly. Stella gave him her sad, but hopeful, smile, and turned to exit the exact route Flack had earlier. He watched his faithful partner leave and wondered if maybe she should do this. Well it was too late now.

And with that, Detective Mac Taylor was about to abound into the cognitive interview of his life.

* * *

Adam stared at the computer screen as if they were at the Olympics for the most epic Staring Contest ever. And he was determined to win. He ran DNA through CODIS - came up with nothing. Hawkes was running with Endza's fingerprints but came up with the same. Both were in the system, however and positively identified Endza as herself. Now they just had to figure out why they were entered into the system. She had no prior record or rap sheet. In fact, she was squeaky clean.

'_Ok, DNA, fingerprints, odd name,…. Uhhhhhhhh da da da da daaaaaaaa… passport!'_ Adam thought to himself. Typing rapidly on the keyboard he entered the information he had into the needed database.

Hawkes quickly strode in to join him.

"Hey, what are you running?" the former M.E. asked. Adam stood back up straight again.

"Well, this girl has both her DNA and fingerprints in CODIS and AFIS, but she has no prior arrests, right? Well, I was thinking and thought, 'Hey, Endza is a really weird name.' I mean, don't get me wrong, it's really pretty but I've never it in my life. So I thought she must be a foreign exchange student or an immigrant or something." Adam explained in his usual way.

"Yeah which may explain why we can't find any of her family." Hawkes nodded with understanding. "So you're looking for possible passport information?"

"That I am." Adam confirmed. Then the computer dinged. "Oh and I think we got somethin'."

They moved closer to the screen. Finally.

"Alright, Endza Raz… Raz ma…

"Razmouhi." Hawkes finshed

"Yeah, that. Last name is 'Vahan.' Passport was created October 15, 2001. Arrived in the United States from Turkey on October 17, 2001. It says here that Captain David Ray paid for the passport. It doesn't say why though." Adam read, quizzical. "Hawkes, she said her name was Endza Vavare. Not Razma-whatever Vahan. Do you think she changed her name?"

"Well, let's find out." Hawkes took over the keyboard this time, accessing a different data base. "Endzaaaa Raaaazmooouuuhiiiii Vaaahaaaaan." Enter. "Yeah here we go. In the state of New York, October 20, 2001. Nine year old Endza Razmouhi Vahan had her name changed to Endza Dalita Vavare. It does not list the reason why."

"So she is an immigrant." Adam stated, though it was more of a question.

"But she was brought over by an Army Captain. And this was before the war started." Hawkes observed.

"Maybe we can get a hold of Captain Ray and see what he knows." Adam said. Hawkes typed some more into the computer.

"No can do." He said. "Ray was killed in active duty last year."

"Aw." Adam added sadly.

"Yeah. Was caught in the way of a suicide bomber in Iraq." Hawkes said. "So another human connection not available."

"But we have more information. Her name was not always Endzaaaaa…" He looked back at the screen. "… Dalita Vavare. And she wasn't born here. She was born in Turkey."

"Actually, we don't know if she born in Turkey. We just know that was where she got the passport and was flown out."

"Wait, what have you got?" Stella asked, walking in to the room full of colorful, busy screens.

"Endza wasn't always Endza." Adam said, pressing print on the reports they had pulled up.

"Yeah and New York wasn't always home." Hawkes added, taking his glasses and placing them on the top of his head. Adam handed the reports to Stella. She read through the print as thoroughly but as quickly as she could.

"Have you looked at the meaning of her name yet?" Stella asked. Hawkes paused and looked at Adam. Adam looked back at Hawkes.

"That sounds more like a 'you' thing." Hawkes said.

"On it." The younger tech said as he sat in the computer chair, shoving all of his attention on to his competitor of a computer screen. The CSIs smirked.

"So Endza is brought over form Turkey in 2001, has her named changed without an identifiable reason, and was stuck in New York to live until now." Stella spelled out. "New York is the biggest city in the world. If someone were looking for her back in 2001, it would be tough to find her here. Like a needle in a hay stack."

"Especially if she was originally from the Middle East. If someone has had a bounty over her since 2001, no wonder it's taken them this long to find her."

"But how old would she have been back in 2001? Endza could have only been like 10 years old. What on earth could a 10 year old possibly do to earn her a death warrant?"

They shot a look at each other. "I'll find that birth certificate." Said Hawkes.

"I've gotta call Mac."

* * *

Mac pressed the red button on his phone. He took a deep breath and turned the knob of the door. Who knew what to expect from a case like this, but certainly not the information he had just received. He wasn't going to think too hard about it. He hadn't noticed before, but the hospital room was dim, probably to protect her eyes. She was sitting up straight, shoulders slumped forward, head tilt downward in defeat; Mac kept his feeling of helplessness at bay.

He approached the same chair and took his seat. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Endza slowly lifted her head to meet his gaze, awaiting the first question. He had been standing outside for quite some time.

"Your name hasn't always been Endza Vavare, has it?"


End file.
